


Day 30: Voyeurism

by hannahrhen



Series: Tag-Team: 30 Days of Steve/Bucky Porn [30]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, M/M, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-09 00:42:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1962477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony tag-teams out.</p>
<p>(A sequel to Day 28: Threesome)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 30: Voyeurism

**Author's Note:**

  * For [melonbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Day 28: Threesome](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1945734) by [hannahrhen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrhen/pseuds/hannahrhen). 



> This is a continuation of [Day 28: Threesome](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1945734).

Bucky pulled himself from the bed the next morning, hurting worse than he had since Steve had found him, but it was a different kind of hurt. Muscles pulled too tight, body worked over with bites and fingernails and, oh, yeah, two cocks …

That was the good kind of hurt.

Steve was wrapped around Stark, dozing while Stark slept, and it was Bucky’s turn to slip off into the shower. “We don’t have to be savages,” Stark had muttered, when he had shoved them both off the bed in the third hour and stripped the sheets, muttering something about a “waterproof mattress cover” and “thank God,” but a couple more hours had gone by, and it was obvious the bed was gonna be a total loss.

Steve had suggested moving to a different room, like they were gonna mark the whole place, but Stark had insisted he was getting sentimentally attached to the now-tattered, warped mattress, so …

Yeah, it was Bucky’s turn to shower. No need to turn into _savages_.

He smirked into the stream of water when he heard someone yelp a few minutes in. Naptime over. It was probably Stark--they’d figured out real quick where he was ticklish, sometime after the first time Bucky had been in his mouth and the first time …

Bucky let the water sluice over his back.

... the first time Steve had been on his knees under Stark.

He turned the water off when the soap was rinsed away and grabbed for a towel--dried himself roughly while the insides of his eyelids played that dirty picture of Steve on his hands and knees. Steve thinks he doesn’t remember things they did of a similar nature, in their apartment, during the war, and Bucky chuckles to himself. Okay, it hurts a little, Steve just assuming and not trying to find out or help him dredge up the memories, but he knows Steve’s intentions are honorable. Always were. He just didn’t realize how hard Bucky would have dug for the memory of humping Steve’s skinny thigh like a dog, or holding Steve against him while he jerked him off under blankets that last awful winter they had together.

Thought he wouldn’t remember goin’ between Steve’s legs and thrusting there until they both messed up a different set of sheets, a thousand years ago. They didn’t have the luxury of considering another room, then, and they’d washed the sheets a lot.

Bucky didn’t bother to put anything on once he was dry enough--just opened the door and … stopped.

He figured out pretty quick why Stark had yelped.

Steve was on him now--had Stark on his back on the filthy mattress and was just pounding away at his ass so rough it was a wonder someone wasn’t crying uncle. Or actually crying. But Stark looked like he was rarin’ to go, knees up in the air and ankles tucked around Steve’s waist, hands across Steve’s shoulders and hanging on. From this angle, Bucky had a perfect view of Steve’s muscled legs, that taut peach of an ass, and that rolling spine and shoulders with just a tease of blond spiking out on top.

He could see more of Stark--Stark’s face, anyway, which was staring up at Steve from between those caging arms, mouth dropped open and eyes wide like pure delight, like Stark had just actually fucking discovered a limitless supply of magic. Steve had had Bucky that way early in the first hour, and Bucky could preach: It was _goddamned sorcery._

He leaned against the doorframe, content just to watch for a minute.

They’d learned fast about his recovery period--that, like Steve, he hardly had one. Tony had complained a blue streak about being “just damned human” in comparison, but thumped Steve on the shoulder when it looked like he was about to be left behind and announced that he wanted in “even if I can’t salute, Cap.”

Bucky smirked, but it slipped off as he stared at Steve’s back, his ass, those thighs as he gave it to Stark good. Skin warm and gold and flawless when it hadn’t been once, when it had shown every hurt. Pure power in his fuck in a way … a way Bucky wouldn’t have expected, and it showed in how his muscles bunched and stretched beneath his skin. He was goddamned merciless once he got going, like he needed all that force to push himself over the edge, shovin' a boulder up a hill, the strength of his orgasm as formidable as vibranium.

Stark … hell, Stark probably wasn’t gonna get it up again anytime soon, not after Bucky had returned his favor and then some, and after Steve had given up the goods, but there was no doubt he was feeling it, the power and the force and the fucking sprinkle of magic, and Bucky watched as Stark’s fingernails met around Steve’s back and then scratched, hard, away from each other, leaving blood-reddened trails that faded in the wake just as quickly. Giving back however he could.

Bucky suddenly-- _suddenly_ \--could imagine himself again in Stark’s place--feel all that muscle turned against him, pinning him down and holding him open, feel that thick cock just splittin’ him apart again, and Steve watching his face for every possible hurt, but not stopping at all unless he saw one, and Bucky just lookin’ at Steve like …

Like Steve had hung the goddamned moon. That fucking face he had always loved. That face he had known even when he was mostly dead inside.

“Tony,” Steve sighed, still loud enough to fill the room, and that snapped Bucky out of the picture.

“You guys aren’t too good to say my name now, huh?” and Stark laughed, and then he looked down, between Steve’s arms and under his sheet-metal stomach, and saw Bucky. Watched him for a little bit, which was quite a feat considering that Steve was rockin’ into him mean as anything. Face changed in a moment--went from blissfully fucked-out to pleased and then … then a little shrewd, considering what was going on over him.

It was unnerving.

Steve--Steve wasn’t stupid, wasn’t deaf, and must have been keeping track of Bucky’s progress, but instead he seemed to have let himself get distracted, just for a minute.

Stark--okay, fine, _Tony_. _Tony_ could do that, could just give Bucky a look that maybe meant something--hell, he’d had his mouth on Bucky’s cock, so he could do what he wanted--but then he started talking:

“So, do you agree-- _oh, oh, yeah_ \--I have the best ideas?” This was said to Steve, after Tony had turned his attention back where it belonged. “Gonna stop-- _oh, God_ \--giving me hell in the field, maybe?”

Bucky was kind of impressed by Tony’s ability to follow a thought in the face of being reamed, but God knows he still squawked enough at the right moments, which kind of ruined the effect he was going for. And Steve took a minute, took a few thrusts to respond, so maybe he _had_ gone stupid, and it wasn’t like Bucky would blame him. He finally seemed to snap to attention, though. Huffed: “Yes. To the first part, anyway.” Leaned down to kiss Tony after he got laughed at, sweet and sloppy and only slightly obviously trying to shut Tony the hell up.

Tony accepted it for a moment before bringing a hand around to gently push away Steve’s face. Continued, “And this has been a delight, let me tell you--would be the best I ever had-- _oh, Jesus, right there, that’s **perfect**_ \--but your morals are a little too upstanding to take that prize.” Pretended to think as the fingers moved to tease into Steve’s blighted hair. “If you ever decide to give up your law-abiding ways, let me know, though, okay? Oh, _God_.”

“Sure, Tony,” Steve dropped back down into his shoulder, laid some kisses there, and it was obvious he was just going along with it at this point, and, yeah, Bucky maybe was staring at where Steve’s cock was drilling right into Tony, just the hint of shine from the lube, and Tony may have taken the last shower, but he still was full of Steve and Bucky, had been used good, his rim just puffy and red and leaking where he was being plowed open, so it was still filthy and slick and goddamned _gorgeous._

_Shit._ This had been a good night.

“Thing is … “ Yeah, Tony was still talking, even with that dick pistoning into him like it was trying to make a point, and the point was _shut up_ , by the way, but he kept going: “I’ve got other projects to get to, now that we’re done teaching Bucky twenty-first-century mating practices--”

Bucky snorted quietly and crossed his arms, metal on top of flesh, which probably would have made for a more intimidating appearance if his own dick hadn’t been stirred up from watching the pure carnal joy of Steve Rogers screwing. Watching what he could do from this angle, which was work a goddamned miracle. Maybe … maybe starting to think of being back under there and being worked at himself until his hole looked just fucking abused like Tony’s. Making him scream until he didn't know why anymore. Until he left actual furrows in Steve’s back that would take an actual day to heal.

He flexed his metal fingers where they rested on his other forearm.

Oh, God, he could do it. And it would be _good._

“And I think,” and there was different movement, Tony pushing Steve’s chest up this time to brace over his arms, so Bucky could see Tony’s face again. “This is great, but … I think you boys could use some alone time.”

That finally slowed Steve’s hips, got his actual attention. “What do you--”

And Tony dragged a palm along Steve’s face, and the action would have been smoother if he hadn’t obviously been exhausted. As it was, he kind of sideswiped Steve’s nose lazily before he patted Steve’s cheek. “I think he needs _you_ more than he needs both of us.” He pushed at Steve’s chest again, and harder this time. Meaningful. “And I think he’s not the only one who needs, Cap.” His hand had stilled on Steve's face. "What do you think?

"Want me to tag-team him in for you?"

Bucky watched the twist of Steve’s shoulders as he took in the message, and pulled himself out with a low "yeah ... _yeah_." Just a sigh, and with a sweet, helpless note that warmed Bucky up from the inside. Not even a hesitation, not even a debate, because that was Steven Grant Rogers, thank you very much. So now  Steve was on his back, his cock still jutting up red and swollen at what was probably a near miss, and his whole chest shimmered as he dragged in breaths. 

Christ, he was a work of _art._ A horny, needy work of art with sinfully spread legs and a heaving belly who had been really close to the edge and _missed it._ Leaving Steve like that was a crime, and despite the good intentions, _really_ good intentions, it actually made Bucky want to punch Tony in the face a little.

Lightly. Just a tap. As he was taking Tony's place on that disgusting mattress.

Despite the turmoil of his thwarted body, Steve’s eyes were on Tony, and Bucky knew that look--he was assessing the current situation before figuring out how to proceed. And then Steve finally looked over toward the door. Caught Bucky watching, just finally _caught the hell on_ (maybe he _had_ fucked himself stupid?), and …

Just lit up. In a way he hadn’t even that first night in the parking garage. Gave a sloppy, happy smile and said, “Yeah. Okay. C’mon, Buck--c’mon,” with an arm out, and Bucky could have hugged Tony instead. Tony, who had already gathered up someone’s shirt and was making his way to the door. Slowly. With some limping.

And maybe whimpering, “Thank God,” under his breath.

Bucky put his hands on his hips at Steve’s expectant look. Mock-frowned. “No fuckin’ way, Rogers--you’re washing _that_ before you touch me. And we're finding another room. We ain’t _savages_.” And watched with what was a big, probably stupid smile on his face as Steve lunged out of the bed to drag Bucky back into the shower.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHH. DONEZO.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who followed the whole series! Thanks to chasingriver for the OTP prompt list, and especially thanks to Melonbutterfly for having a go at it with me!
> 
> And thank heavens IT'S DONE!!!


End file.
